The Device
by simplescribe6
Summary: C137cest fic. Rick tries to control his urges towards Morty, with little success. Extra lemony. Warning for dub-con/non-con.
1. Beta Test

Rick stood swaying slightly in the doorway to Morty's room, silhouetted by the hallway light behind him, a gaunt looming figure filling the doorway. He blinked blearily, colours and shapes fuzzing and blending together, reaching a hand out to steady himself on the doorframe. His heart was thudding in his chest, and he reached instinctively for his flask even though he really didn't need it. A quick shake revealed it was empty anyway. Of course it was.

Morty was curled in his bed, completely oblivious to Rick's presence. Rick could see the rise and fall of his breathing, and he thought it looked so serene. Wobbling slightly, he made his way carefully over to Morty's bedside, sitting down lightly. Now he could see the boy's soft face, blank and perfect in sleep, his slender body looked so small. At Rick's less than graceful stumble over, Morty was roused, and blinked rapidly as his eyes focused. "R-Rick?" He asked hesitantly, "W-w-what is it?" Morty was sitting up now.

Rick swayed, not saying anything. He was obviously loaded and Morty became visibly nervous, fidgeting and glancing around the dark room. With a sigh, Rick rose and placed his hands on his grandson's shoulders. Morty went rigid at the unusual display of closeness. Rick seemed to be wrestling with something, frowning, Morty wasn't used to seeing him so indecisive. "Morty..." He whispered, and reached one hand down to rest on his grandson's groin. His sensitive teenage body reacted before his mind could process what was happening. He felt frozen with anxiety. "Y-yer a good kid Morty..." Rick mumbled as he began stroking Morty through his underwear.

"Rick!" he yelped, "Wh-wh-what are you DOING?" Morty scrambled away, but quickly felt the wall at his back, and Rick was advancing. He held his arms out in front of himself warningly, wide eyes looking panic-stricken into his grandpa's heavy lidded ones. Rick reached out and grabbed him by each wrist, pinning his arms to the wall. Morty felt trapped and exposed and his anxiety spiked painfully. He was starting to hyperventilate as Rick eyed him from above, pants tightening visibly as he watched Morty struggle weakly beneath him. The panic attack was making him even weaker than usual. Rick leaned in suddenly and kissed Morty, forcefully, his tongue forcing its way into the boy's mouth, exploring relentlessly. He tore himself away just as suddenly and kissed sloppily down Morty's neck.

Rick ground himself roughly into Morty, finding Morty's hardening cock and grinding into it, growling quietly. Morty seemed to come back to himself suddenly and he started shrieking fearfully, calling for help, until Rick grabbed him by the hair and shook him roughly. He had both the boy's tiny wrists pinned with one spidery hand. "Shut up!" he whispered, "Shut the fuck up." He leaned in to Morty's face, sickly sweet breath choking the air between them, and said, "They can't hear you Morty. I-I-it's some science stuff. I-I-I-it's in the walls. It's everywhere. No ones coming, Morty, s-s-so do us both a favor and quit scEUUUGH-screaming your head off."

Morty panted heavily beneath Rick, tears running down his cheeks, but remained mostly silent. His eyes changed from pleading to angry and back again, but Rick hardly noticed as he gave a tentative thrust, grinding the boy again while he looked into his eyes. Satisfied with his grandson's compliance, he released his wrists and fumbled with his belt, sliding it off, his pants quickly following. Morty was hugging himself with knees drawn, but Rick tsk'd at his posture and grabbed his arms again, turning him to face the wall roughly.

The boy put his hands out to brace himself, sweaty palms flat against the wall, head twisting back to flash another pleading look at his grandpa. Rick didn't seem to notice as he positioned himself behind Morty, naked below the waist but with his stained t-shirt hanging just above his cock, lab coat flowing out around him. Morty was rigid with fear, his body like a tensed bowstring. Rick watched him shut his eyes tightly, the little bit of boyish muscle he had straining and trembling with tension.

"J-jeezus Morty..." Rick mumbled, suddenly embracing Morty, rocking forward clumsily. Morty was shocked by the sudden tender gesture, and felt himself melting into the hug, while his heart still thudded uncomfortably in his skull. Morty felt the hot sting of tears dripping on his shoulder from where Rick's face pressed against him. Just as suddenly as the hug had begun, Rick broke away from Morty and shoved the boy down into his pillows, ass raised tenderly into the air. The older man sighed deeply, one hand working lazily at his already erect cock.

He pressed lightly at Morty's entrance as the boy whimpered beneath him. The light pressure increased steadily, and Morty leaned forward involuntarily, a small cry escaping him. Rick's grip on his shoulder simply tightened as he forced the boy backwards, down onto his cock. The boy cried out in earnest now as the head of Rick's penis forced its way inside him, and Rick mercifully paused as soon as it was in, groaning in a quiet voice and closing his eyes blissfully. He'd wanted to do this for so long. He'd imagined it so many times, enough to bring him to this point anyway.

After this moment's rest, Rick started inching forward again. Morty jerked forward, so Rick simply went with him, bearing down on his grandson until he was laying flat on top of him, his cock buried neatly into the boy's virgin ass. Morty twitched uncontrollably beneath him, squeaking and moaning, and Rick felt his cock twitch at the pleasure of it all. He buried himself up to the hilt, and relished the tight wetness of his grandson's ass. Just the thought of how sick it was made him want to pour his cum into the boy. Not yet, he reminded himself sternly.

Rick propped himself up again- Morty was making little pained sounds high in his throat, and Rick placed a thin arm around the boy's kneck, grabbing him in a sort of headlock and wrenching him back up to the arms-and-knees position he started in. "Stay." Rick growled, and started moving.

He fucked the boy mercilessly. The room was suddenly filled with a wet slapping noise as Rick pounded into him, still holding Morty in the lock so he couldn't move away. At first, Morty's cries were in time with Rick's thrusts- "Ah! Ah! Ah!" But as he continued at this pace, it degenerated into sobbing and begging. "Ahhhnnn, R-Rick, p-p-p-pleeease, Rick! Stop! Noooo..." Morty made a hopeless sounding high pitched keen, but the begging just made Rick want to fuck him harder. With a flex of his bicep, Rick put pressure on Morty's throat, grinning as the boy's crying was cut off. He doubled his pace then, feeling his climax slowly build. It was going to be huge- he would fill the boy up and then some.

Morty's face was darkening as Rick fucked and strangled him, a dark invisible force behind him, bearing down on him relentlessly. Rick snaked a hand out to lightly stroke at Morty's trembling cock. After a few strokes, he felt the boy cumming, his tiny hips bucking, and it pushed Rick finally over the edge. His final thrusting growl turned into a long moaning sigh of release as he poured seed into the tiny body beneath him. He felt his cock pulse, and hot cum spilled out the edges as he filled the boy, dripping down obscenely onto the bedsheets. After a final few twitching thrusts, Rick pulled out, leaning backwards, heart racing.

He surveyed the scene before him- Morty, splayed out on his rumpled bed, naked except for his t-shirt, cum still dribbling out from his ass. He looked completely out of sorts, and Rick's cock gave a little half-hearted jump at the thought of what he'd just done to his own grandson. Morty seemed to have passed out momentarily, probably from the pressure on his throat, but he roused shakily as Rick watched. He seemed to have a sudden moment of rememberance, and, trembling, reached for his sheet to shyly cover his nakedness. As if that mattered now, Rick chuckled quietly. With a sigh, he stood. That was fun. It had been even better than he had expected. "Shut down." he said, and everything went black.

Rick pulled the VR helmet off his head roughly, swaying where he sat on his cot. The room was dark save for a tiny sliver of light coming in from a crack in the door. He thought he remembered to close that before he began. Reaching for his flask, he found it empty, and sighed again.

A bundle of wires ran from the helmet down to a metal sheath that covered his cock. It was lined with silicone, and realistically simulated sensations in VR, including heat and lubrication. Now it was also dripping with his cum. He pulled it off and let the helmet and sheath fall to the floor with a dull clatter. The world was spinning and he lay back, breathing deeply. Soon he was snoring quite loudly, and didn't hear the soft patter of footsteps retreating from his door.


	2. Field Research

Morty didn't feel very well at all. After his last adventure with Rick, to some mind-melting alternate dimension where they'd had to obtain a dangerously rare component for an experiment of Rick's he knew very little about, the duo had arrived home to the garage, Rick almost manic with excitement, where Morty was just exhausted and drained. Rick didn't give so much as a "good job", he merely strode over to his work area and began fiddling and twisting and poking around at the bit of nonsensical plant material they had brought home.

He had shuffled over to the door, wondering if maybe he could get a good hour's nap before he had to be up for school. Maybe if he skipped breakfast, it would give him ten extra minutes... "Morty!" His grandpa's sharp whisper broke him suddenly from his thoughts, and he turned blearily towards Rick, feeling as though he were underwater. "Don't leave." Rick said without even looking at him. He was still hunched over his work. When he said nothing further, Morty had dutifully stood in place, watching Rick bustle around the garage, feeling his hour tick away.

Just when he thought he might really be able to fall asleep standing up, Rick came over carrying a huge needle that made Morty's stomach churn. The glass vial contained a purple-green swirling liquid that looked very much like the thing they had gone to get today. Without speaking, Grandpa Rick grabbed Morty's arm and plunged the needle into the soft flesh of his bicep. Morty yelped in shock, his brain only understanding after it was already done. "Rick!" he said shrilly, "Wh-wh-what are you DOING?" and took an involuntary few steps back, nearly colliding with the wall.

Rick seemed to stiffen visibly, not looking Morty in the face. After a moment of silence he spun around and went back to his bench. "Don't worry about it Morty." he said, sounding distant, "It's fine. Just tell me if you burp up anything out of the ordinary." Morty stood dumbstruck for a few moments, trying to think of how to word his outrage, until he gave up trying to form coherent sentences and simply walked out of the garage without speaking at all.

Morty's feet felt like lead as he trudged up the stairs to his bedroom. Just as he got in and turned on the light, his alarm clock began beeping loudly. He stumbled over to it and turned it off, tears already welling in his eyes. _It's just the lack of sleep,_ he told himself. _Rick's been weird lately,_ his mind countered irrationally. _It's just the lack of sleep_. He took out his phone and texted "sick day" to Rick, the well practiced code word for asking Rick to call in to school for him. No way was he going on zero sleep and when he might barf up some weird alien thing at any moment. He lay down heavily on his bed, and began taking his clothes off, the world a watery blur through his eyes.

Morty slept through the entire day, and he woke to a dark and empty house. It was late and everyone was in bed. His mom had glanced in on him and, finding him so thoroughly passed out with a slight fever, had bought the sick day excuse. He learned this from a text that waited for him when he woke. Rick hadn't even bothered to reply.

Morty felt nauseous now. It was what had finally woken him. Not eating for over 24 hours probably wasn't helping either. He rubbed heavy sleep from his eyes. He's fallen asleep crying again. _S-Shut up Morty, y'little piece of shit..._ Rick's voice rang in his mind in response to his self-pity. He stood to get some water.

Halfway to the bathroom he felt as though he might throw up, and ran the rest of the way. Just as he had flicked on the light switch, he burped wetly, feeling a smooth something rise out of his stomach. He choked out a small sphere of jet black, smooth and perfectly proportioned. _Wonder what it is,_ he thought idly, feeling immensely better the moment it had exited his body. _What if I just kept it?_ he wondered, _That'd serve Rick right._

He never really considered keeping it. After he used the bathroom, he headed for the garage with the black thing in his pocket. A quick glance revealed Rick wasn't in there. _Maybe he's not home,_ Morty thought. He guessed bedroom next, and made his way back upstairs, taking care to be quiet. Rick's door was closed as he approached, and Morty tapped quietly on the wood. He didn't want to wake his parents, and the quiet of the house at night seemed so loud. He tapped again when there was no response, and noticed the door was actually open, it hadn't been fully shut. He was worried the alien thing might hatch or something, and resolved to just place it on Rick's shelf and leave. Rick was probably passed out on his cot, literally the only reason he would be in his room at night.

Morty pushed tentatively at the door, dreading a squeak. The ambient light of the hallway slivered it's way into Rick's pitch black room, allowing Morty's well-adjusted night vision a small peek inside. He heard heavy breathing, and stiffened anxiously. It didn't sound like Rick's normal drunken snore, it was too fast. And he was whispering now. Morty clearly heard "J-jeezus..." More panting. Morty's body flooded with dread and cold anxiety. He shouldn't be here. In his mind, he turned and walked quickly back to his room. In reality, however, he stayed frozen in place, feeling immobilized.

Morty clearly heard his grandpa growl "Stay.", and the tone of his voice made Morty's gut tighten, a warm feeling spreading out from there. The hell is wrong with you? he thought sharply. With a dread curiousity, he peered through the little door crack, trying to make sense of the dim shapes within. He picked out Rick by his stark white limbs that looked long and sinuous, reclining languidly on the cot. He was, blessedly, facing away from the door... but there was some weird helmet thing on his head. Morty followed the trail of wires to where they led further down Rick's body, and as his mind arranged the dark shapes before him, he realized Rick's pants were off, and there was something over his cock. Another flood of anxiety came at this realization, and Morty gulped uncomfortably. Still, his body reacted. Don't. He almost pleaded with his rapidly hardening penis.

Rick had clearly made some weird sort of jack off machine. Morty's mind raced at the possibilities of such a thing. How come Rick never shared his cool inventions with him? Rick's grunting moans had increased slightly, and Morty nearly blushed at the sound, then, all at once, it was over, and Rick lay panting heavily in the dark. Morty heard him say more clearly, "Shut down." And he pressed himself against the hallway wall in sudden terror, imagining Rick coming out to find him. There was a dull thud, and Morty nearly pissed himself. Thank god he had gone to the bathroom.

The rhythmic sound of Rick's snores came after only a few moments, and Morty slid to the floor with a sigh, feeling all the tension flood out of him. "Jeez..." he whispered to himself, and stood up. He still felt too embarrassed to go in to the room after all that, and pocketed the jet sphere after all. Rick wouldn't have injected him with it if it was really dangerous, he rationalized to himself, but if he was being honest, he was now just more afraid to go in than he was to keep the thing. Heart thudding loudly, he turned in a daze and retreated back to his bedroom.


	3. Discovery

When Morty got up the next day, Rick was nowhere to be seen. He actually felt well rested for the first time in weeks, and was able to eat breakfast and catch the bus on time. School passed in a daze. Every class he went to, he was completely lost. His teacher handed everyone's unit tests back for a unit he remembered just starting. How many days had he missed?

They kept him after class and talked about make up assignments. He barely even heard them. At least Mr. Goldenfold was just giving him a passing mark and not asking questions. Morty would have to remind Rick that he had to pass all his other classes too.

Morty felt drained by the end of the day, all his energy of the morning having been leeched away by his social and academic anxieties. He got home and looked around the house. Summer was watching TV and texting. His dad was playing some game on his tablet. Mom was out at the hospital, working late again. Neither family member spoke up when he entered the room.

"H-Hello?" He stammered, annoyed. Both grunted responses that could be assumed to also be a "hello", eyes still trained on their technology. When nothing more was forthcoming, Morty sullenly made for the garage, hope blossoming inside him that Rick might be in there and actually need him for something. Little tears had formed at the corner of his eyes, and he took a moment to wipe at them and breathe deeply, before opening the door.

All his hope and excitement went out with a woosh as he took in the darkened, empty garage. Rick was still gone, and his workbench looked much the same as they had left it the night before. Morty felt his face crumble a little before he got it back under control and went back inside.

"Where's Rick?" he asked his robot family.

"Haven't seen him." Summer replied. Dad didn't even seem to have heard. Morty let out a pitiful sigh as he headed up to his room, glancing back to see if anyone noticed. They hadn't. _What am I supposed to do, scream?_ he thought dejectedly.

Morty flopped down on his bed, bored and lonely and tired. He lay there for a long while, trying not to let his mind think about anything that would make him feel worse. He heard people come upstairs and go into their rooms, and wondered if he had fallen asleep. A glance at the clock confirmed that he had, and he went poking around the house a little.

It was dark and everyone had gone to bed. The garage was still empty. Morty thought about checking Rick's room. After what he saw last night... He blushed deeply. The thought of... _interrupting_ Rick like that again made him feel faint, but his heart was hurting and he couldn't just be alone with it right now.

Soft little footfalls went up the stairs and towards Rick's tiny room. Morty put a hand on the door, breathing too shallow, and rapped lightly. He waited for what seemed like an eternity, with no response. There was no sound coming from inside that he could tell. Gulping, he silently turned the knob, opening the door a crack.

It was empty. Rick's things lay strewn about, messier than usual- paper, pens, a blanket, circuit boards, wires, crystals, and plenty he had no name for. A plastic shopping bag full of scotch sat neatly in the corner, the only thing that didn't look months old or trampled on.

Morty scanned the room with interest, never having spent long enough in there to really get a look at anything. And there, half underneath the cot, was the device. That weird machine he had seen his grandpa using just yesterday. Morty felt unable to stop himself moving forward, towards it. _Rick could portal in at any time,_ his mind screamed at him. _He usually portals into the garage,_ he reasoned. _USUALLY?_

His hands went out to touch the helmet, pulling it out a little from where it had rolled, running his fingers across the smooth metal dome. It reminded him of the Roy helmet at Blips and Chitz, just more streamlined, less bulky. His hand followed the curve of the metal, along the protruding wires, down to the cylindrical sheath that lay a short ways away. He almost recoiled at the thought of his grandpa's drying cum inside it, but a little prodding revealed the object was completely clean. Morty doubted Rick would've cleaned it. _Self-cleaning,_ he marvelled.

He felt possessed, like he was watching someone else in his body continue onwards, already past the point of no return. His fingers explored the sheath's opening, feeling cool, pliant plastic. It was so soft, and he felt his way inside, pushing around the gel-like padding. As his fingers reached the end, there was a round sort of... thing... at the end, softer than all the rest of it. As he pressed against it, lights came on and he heard a delicate whirr from the helmet. At that moment, the plastic began to heat and moisten around his fingers. Morty jumped back, clutching his hand like something had bit it. His heart was racing. Lights danced along the device, yellow, yellow, yellow, green. It glowed green in the dark of the room and seemed to invite him forward again.

Rick was just as likely to portal into Morty's bedroom as his own, and by now he just _had_ to know what it felt like. His cock was rock hard and he could feel his pulse thrumming through it. He grabbed at himself through his pants and groaned a little, hips making small involuntary movements. What sort of crazy alien porn did Rick even need this thing for? Taking a deep breath, he positioned the sheath above the head of his penis, pressing down lightly on it. The plastic membrane seemed to react to his touch, making way for him as he slid the sheath all the way over his dick. It felt warm and tight, and as soon as he hit the back it came fully to life. The temperature increased and more liquid flowed over his throbbing cock. He shuddered, breathing heavily, worried he might spill just from this sensation alone. Quickly, he thrust the helmet on, and the world went black.

A cool female voice played softly in Morty's ears. "Continue session?" it said. Morty's breath almost caught in his throat. This was more than he expected. He had to hurry in case Rick came home... "Y-Y-Yes." he stammered, shaking like a leaf. The world constructed around his eyes.

Before him was... His bedroom? It was dark, but this was definitely Morty's bedroom. A cold feeling of dread hit settled deep in Morty's stomach. Why was this... And then he saw, on the bed, himself. A trembling, sobbing version of himself, sprawled belly-first on his bed. He was clutching the sheets pitifully, clumsily drawing them around his nakedness. Now Morty could tell he was speaking too, very quickly, almost too quiet to hear. "I'm s-s-s-sorry Rick, p-p-please, I'm sorry..." Over and over.

Morty felt like he was going to be ill. He backed up without thinking and bumped into the wall. Morty on the bed flinched a little at the sound. The sheath gave a little jolt at the sight of fake-Morty's terror, and he felt a reluctant sort of lust mingle shamefully with his revulsion. "Shut down!" he cried, shutting his eyes tightly. Tentatively, he reached up and pulled the helmet off.

"Well, well, well," a voice drawled languidly from behind where Morty sat shaking on the floor, "W-what do we ha-UURP-ave here?"


	4. Event Horizon

Morty didn't think he could feel worse, but he was mistaken. He felt like a rabbit in the presence of the wolf. So he stayed perfectly still on the floor, a slight tremor running through him, and said nothing. Even so, he stole a fearful glance over his shoulder, and saw Rick leaning a little against the door frame, a big shit eating grin on his face.

"Jeez, Morty, y'know, just m-make... make yourself at home." Grin widening, he strode over to empty random bits from his pockets to a shelf. His back was turned to Morty as he fished around in the last of his many pockets. "Y-y'like my new invention, Morty?" he asked innocently. Morty just blushed more, holding the helmet of the thing over himself, hiding his sheathed cock.

"R-R-Rick I'm sorry I don't know-" Morty's words came out in an incoherent rush, but Rick silenced him with an impatient sound. He came over to where the boy sat on the floor, looking so small and pitiful. He crouched in front of Morty, who shied away from the tall man, cringing in on himself.

"I don't think you know quite how... Just quite what this thing caUURP- can do Morty." Rick said, smirking down at him with a conspiratorial sort of look in his eyes. His eyes gleamed and flashed down at him, and Morty suddenly felt very small. His skinny legs seemed even slimmer than normal, and was Rick really always so... tall? His presence flooded the room and set Morty trembling with the electric intensity of it. Surely, he thought, his heart was about to beat right out of his chest. Rick reached a spidery hand towards Morty, staring right at him with that grin. Morty found he couldn't look Rick in the face, and stared hard at the floor. Rick's hand moved past the helmet, between Morty's legs, and something clicked quietly on the sheath around his cock.

The sheath came to life once more from whatever Rick had done, rhythmically pulsating up and down his cock. It squeezed up and down the length of him, pouring out slick liquid, vibrating a little. Morty felt his whole body shiver with the pleasure of it, the fear and embarassment he felt towards Rick combined with the pleasure, so he felt dizzy and far away. He let out a little gasping sound of pleasure, leaning against the side of the cot for support as his legs turned to rubber. Rick's eyes focused even more sharply on Morty's face from the sound, he looked hungry as Morty tried to stifle his reactions, hands coming up to cover his face.

Without warning, Morty felt Rick's powerful hand reach out and close around his throat. Shocked, he looked at Rick then, just for a moment. The raw lust in his eyes made Morty's heart freeze for a moment, he hid his face and couldn't look back, the emotion in his grandpa's was too intense. Rick squeezed then, just as Morty could feel his orgasm building heavily, a heat gathering in his belly and groin, spreading across his face. Rick was pressing very tightly against the vein that supplied blood to Morty's brain. The dizziness increased and spun the world, and he brought up two hands to try and pry Rick's fingers loose. They stayed on like iron, never budging, his eyes never leaving Morty's panicked face. Just as black spots began to dance their way across his vision, Morty's orgasm overflowed, and he cried out with the force of it. Immediately Rick brought his other hand up to clamp tightly over Morty's mouth, muffling his moans of ecstasy. The boy's small hands clutched onto Rick's larger ones as he bucked with pleasure. Morty was only dimly aware of this, his eyes shut, body pumping loads of semen into the device. He could hardly feel his body at all as his mind drifted away on wave after wave of pleasure.

When he had gone limp and quiet, Rick removed his hand from the little boy's mouth and pressed the button he had before on the device. It went still, and Rick drew it off of Morty's cock, tossing it to the side as liquid spilled onto the floor. Then, he drew Morty in towards him, enveloping him, letting him float and twitch out the last of his orgasm laying peacefully against Rick's body. The two sat like this for a long while until Morty came back to full awareness. Rick could feel it in the way Morty began to tense again. And Rick was tense too. The full gravity of what had just occurred began to settle on them both, and Rick was the first to break the contact. He stood, pulling Morty off of him, and turned to rummage around some drawers. He came back over, tossing a tube of Turbulent Juice at Morty on his way to the door.

"C-Clean up, Morty, Jesus." He wouldn't look at Morty at all now. "And d-don't fucking mess around in my room." He looked like he wanted to say more, and stood for a moment clenching his fists before striding out of the room, leaving a bewildered Morty to clean up the mess.


	5. Polarity

After that, Morty didn't see Rick again for weeks. No one did. His parents passed uncomfortable looks back and forth at the dinner table, his mom assuring everyone he'd turn up soon, eyes red-rimmed and tearful. Morty went to school more than he had all year in those weeks. Every day when he walked the halls, he expected Rick to appear suddenly out of nowhere, grab him by the arm, and haul him off on some adventure like nothing had ever happened. He didn't.

One night, after a particularly bad day at school, with his family gone or oblivious, Morty shuffled his way into Rick's room. He kicked sullenly at a stack of papers on the floor, knocking it over. Maybe Rick would sense it somehow and come home to tell Morty what a pussy he was. The room was dark and silent, and empty.

Morty sat down on Rick's bed with a sigh. The device lay where he had put it, after, tucked neatly beneath the cot. Morty hadn't really allowed himself to think too much about the incident; whenever his mind fluttered over it he felt piercing anxiety and shame, and quickly found something else to distract himself. Sitting here now, the memory of it came rushing back, fragments battering at him like dark wings. The green glow of the device, seeing himself sobbing on the bed, Rick's grinning face leaning closer. He rubbed at his chest uncomfortably, hating the way his heart sped from the memory.

Morty looked over towards the corner that had held Rick's scotch. The bag was gone, the only evidence that Rick had been around since that night. Morty wondered where Rick was right at this moment. Probably getting smashed somewhere, having sex and blowing tonnes of money. The scotch would be long gone by now, he imagined.

He lay back on the cot, hands smoothing out over the thin blanket, head turning in towards the flat pillow. Rick's scent permeated the room, but it was especially strong here, mixing with the sharp scent of alcohol and musky sweat. It made Morty think again of Rick leaning in to him, his face looming over him as his hand tightened mercilessly... Morty's cock twinged in spite of himself, and he curled up in the fetal position, hating himself. He lay there for a long while, breathing in Rick's scent and touching himself lightly through the cloth of his pants, until he fell asleep.

He dreamed. He dreamed that Rick was chasing him through a jumbled mixture of his house and school, but every door he opened led to his bedroom. Morty kept running through endless school hallways, Rick just a few steps behind him, shadowed and sinister. Eventually, Morty was driven down a hallway ending in a door, Rick close on his heels. He was forced to open it, knowing it led only to his bedroom. He slammed the door shut behind him, pressing his back into it as it rocked and shook violently with the force of Rick slamming into it repeatedly. After a moment, the slamming ceased, and Morty slid to the floor, tears streaming down his face. The room was dark and silent, but through a haze of tears he noticed a green glow coming from beneath his bed. It hypnotized him, drawing him forward, the threat of Rick bursting in forgotten. He inched forwards on hands and knees, peering at the soft green glow. As he moved his blanket aside to see better, he realized the glow came from Rick's eyes, a predatory reflection used for seeing in the dark. Rick lay stretched out beneath his bed, grinning wildly, and Morty scrambled backwards with a scream. Suddenly, Rick wasn't beneath the bed at all- he was standing in front of Morty, stumbling forward drunkenly. Still grinning, he seized Morty up by the throat with one hand until his feet dangled and kicked vainly, lifting him up off the ground so Morty could not even scream. Morty watched the green glow in his crazed eyes brighten, just as blackness ate away the edges of his vision, until he saw nothing but a haze of green shimmering in the darkness.

Bright green light flooded into the room where Morty slept, suffusing it with an unearthly glow for a few seconds as Rick came stumbling in. Clothes wrinkled, dirty, and stained, stinking of alcohol and sex and alien things, he swayed in place for a moment as the portal closed behind him, hand darting out, grabbing a wall to steady himself. He had been on quite the bender, and had come home to sleep, finally, having spent more than he cared to already.

Rick blinked at the small form of Morty, asleep and oblivious on his cot. The boy was so small, he hardly took up any space on the already conservatively sized bed. All the emotions that Rick had been trying to bury came flooding back at the sight of him there, and he scowled. Fucking Morty. It wasn't right that such an insignificant little dipshit like him should be driving Rick so crazy. His heart gave a sick lurch of desire and possessiveness when he thought about how Morty had looked last time he saw him- so frightened, so shocked, until his eyes slowly filled to bursting with the pleasure Rick had shared with the boy. Rick's cock gave a halfhearted twinge, an incredible feat after all he'd been doing the past few weeks. _Fucking Morty_ , he thought again.

With a sigh, Rick sat on the cot, expecting Morty to wake from it, but he didn't, so deeply asleep was he. The boy mumbled and twitched in his sleep, seeming to be having a bad dream of some sort. His arm waved out weakly for a moment before falling limply back to the bed. Rick shook his head, Morty was such a weak little pansy, but he tried. Not allowing himself to think too much, Rick stretched out on the cot beside Morty. He drew the boy in close, bodies pressing snugly against one another, folding Morty into the fabric of his labcoat, holding on to him as he trembled. Morty squirmed and made a small sound of protest as Rick drew him in, but Rick held firm, and Morty soon quieted, sighing and snuggling in unconsciously against Rick. The older man curled around him, big spoon, resting his face on the top of Morty's downy hair, breathing in the sweet smell of his it.

Rick's cock was hardening more rapidly now, the sweet soap smell of the boy triggering an immediate response. Fuck... he thought absently, already feeling himself going off the edge, past the point of stopping. His hand slid it's way across Morty's smooth chest, over his stomach, moving down between his legs. The boy was already at half mast, some unconscious response to Rick's presence. Rick massaged him through the soft cloth of his pajamas, feeling as Morty's cock rose stiffly. Wanting more, Rick pulled impatiently at Morty's pants, releasing his cock and wrapping a hand around the shaft. He stroked it slowly up and down, spreading precum across the head just as Morty began to stir.

He came awake slowly, blinking sleep from his eyes in a daze. Morty made a confused little mumble, hands reaching down to where Rick was stroking him. "R-Rick..." he whispered, "Don't..." Morty's breath came in shallow little gasps now, and Rick didn't respond to him at all, other than to increase his pace a little. Morty tried to sit up, to move away, but Rick put his arm around the boy's chest, holding him tight against Rick's wiry frame. His legs kicked out ineffectively, and Rick easily controlled them by locking them with his own. He steadily increased the pace of his hand on Morty's cock as the boy struggled, his own rock-hard and pressing noticeably against Morty's bottom.

As he stroked, Rick began grinding himself against Morty from behind, but the angle was bad and frustratingly light. He let out an annoyed little growl before sitting up, hauling Morty with him and flipping him unceremoniously over, so he was laying face down on the cot. Rick loomed above the boy, strong hands flashing out to pin Morty's head down and grab his arms, rendering him immobile and helpless in a span of three seconds. Morty barely had time to process it before Rick was grinding against his ass from behind, pajama pants slipping down bit by bit. The rough material of Rick's pants rubbed harshly against Morty's soft skin, and he flattened himself in an attempt to escape the pressing mass of Rick's cock, but Rick followed him down, zipper digging into Morty's ass, and he cried out in pain and protest.

"Rick!" he mumbled hoarsely, muffled as half his face was pressed roughly into the bed. "T-That hurts..." Tears welled a little in Morty's eyes as the intensity of the situation crashed over him, feeling totally helpless as Rick ground a few more times into him, seeming to not have heard Morty's quiet protests.

Rick released the pressure on Morty's head and straightened up, allowing Morty to get a full breath of air. "Jeez Morty, y-you don't have to get all weepy about it..." He curved down towards Morty and grinned wickedly as he whispered in the boy's ear. His breath was hot and strong, and Morty noticed he was breathing heavily as the air tickled his ear's sensitive edge. There was a soft clink as Rick undid his belt, then his zipper, sliding out of his pants with practiced ease, never releasing his grip where he held Morty's arms pinned together. He slid the soft smoothness of his length against Morty's now fully exposed ass, and whispered, "Is that better?"

Morty had squeezed his eyes shut, as if he could just will the situation away. He didn't answer Rick, he couldn't. Rick continued to rub himself slowly up and down the curve of Morty's ass, and Morty felt his cock twitch and throb at the feeling. A little sound escaped his lips, and he pressed his face into the bed in embarassment. Rick noticed, and his eyes flashed with amusement. Suddenly impatient, he released Morty's arms, gripping his cock and guiding it to the boy's tight entrance. Morty felt a surge of fear and indignation, and tried to get away, but Rick's big hand came down on his shoulder. "D-Don't even fucking think about it." Rick growled from behind him, and Morty glanced back to see the rage and hunger that lay nakedly in Rick's eyes. The sight of it pierced him with lightning fear, and he remembered all the times he'd seen Rick be violent, crazed, sociopathic... Morty trembled and turned away, burying his face into Rick's pillow, trying to remember how just hours earlier the scent of it had been such a comfort to him.

Rick pressed the tip of his cock against Morty's entrance, guiding the boy back against it with a hand on his shoulder. Morty cried out, voice cracking in a desperate whisper of pain. Rick relished the little punctuation of his cries, all feeding the fire in him, hardening his cock, urging him to stab into the boy over and over until there was nothing left of him. He pressed forward, soft skin bending and enveloping the tip of him, sliding over with velvet wetness. He groaned low as the head popped into place, pausing to allow Morty a moment's rest to adjust, to make room for Rick. The boy writhed beneath him, hands balling up fistfuls of fabric and twisting in pain and frustration. "Yesss..." Rick hissed as he inched deeper, bringing an arm up and around Morty's neck in a choking headlock. Morty knew what to expect this time, and even though Rick's arm curled around him gently, lovingly, he knew what it meant and panicked. His fear made his entire body tense, and his already tight ass squeezed deliciously against Rick's cock.

Morty put up hands, small fingers trying to brace against Rick's bicep where it pressed into his throat. "No..." He moaned weakly, tears running down to where Rick could feel them dampen his arm. Rick hushed him with a sighing shh in Morty's ear, tightening his lock as he exhaled softly. Extreme pressure bore down on Morty's throat, immediate and frightening, his panic surging as he was suddenly unable to draw breath. He tried to form words to beg Rick to stop, but he had no air, he couldn't get them out. Rick began to pump Morty's ass softly then, sliding slowly in and out as he fucked the boy, bicep taut and clenched around Morty's thin kneck. Morty's vision began to dim, and he felt far away, the pain of being fucked for the first time slowly receding. He sagged forward, body going slack as he passed out.

Rick felt the change as it happened, the tension draining out of Morty's body as he lapsed into unconciousness. Rick immediately released his hold, letting the boy fall forward limply into the sheets. He cupped Morty's delicate ass with both hands, and relished the look of his cock buried deep into it. How long had he wanted to do this? It was so much better, in reality, than even _he_ had managed with VR. "Fffffuck..." he groaned, and placed a hand roughly on Morty's head to brace himself as he picked up the pace. The silent room was filled with a soft, wet slapping sound as he fucked the boy roughly. Morty was just coming to again, limbs twitching in confusion, mind not yet caught up with his predicament. He tried to rise up, but Rick's weight was already on him, pinning him completely as the older man pounded into him over and over. Morty let out a long shakey sob, the pain was intense and piercing, but as Rick reached so deeply inside of him, there were waves of pleasure lapping at him too, confusing, and mingling with the pain exquisitely. Morty felt so small, insignificant, a vessel for Rick's pleasure, and he felt something loosening inside of him. Some tightly wound ball of anxiety, shame, and inadequacy just broke inside of him as the pain scoured it away, dissolving it as his tears flowed and washed it away. He cried quietly, feeling the tension and self loathing that had been growing inside him for as long as he could remember flow out of him in wave after wave, perfectly in time with each stroke of Rick's cock. It was quite fast now, the lewd wap-wap-wap of it seemed like the loudest thing in the world, and then Rick was groaning, his rhythm breaking as he jerked and thrust. Morty felt hot liquid where it squeezed out around Rick's cock, running down his legs and dripping onto the bed. Rick collapsed forward, moving his hand off Morty's head to brace himself above the boy, panting heavily. He leaned forward and bit Morty's neck lightly a few times, before rolling onto his side, cock pulling free and allowing more cum to spill out.

Morty still shook with a few quiet sobs, and Rick pulled him close, hugging him tightly and rocking slightly, not saying anything as Morty cried himself out, his hiccuping sobs dying away into sniffles, and then into silence. They lay close for a long while, until Rick stood and pulled his pants back on. He turned to Morty, having grabbed a towel from somewhere in the room, and wiped at the sticky, drying cum, cleaning it away with deft hands. He pulled Morty's pjs back up, and lifted him. Morty's legs shook and trembled and he wasn't sure they would hold his weight, but it didn't matter because Rick was carrying him, out into the hallway. Morty buried his face into his grandpa's shoulder, embarrassed to be coddled, fearful someone would see. He felt certain the would just know what had happened if they saw him. No one came out into the hall as Rick carried Morty over to his bedroom, laying Morty down and pulling the blankets up over his slight frame.

He lay a hand on Morty's forehead for a moment before running it up and through his hair, brushing the sweat soaked locks away from Morty's forehead. He had that same strange scowl on his face that he had last time, like he couldn't think of exactly what he wanted to say. "You're a good kid, Morty." he said finally, after a long silence. Morty felt completely drained, like a wash cloth completely wrung of water, and he could only blink sleepily at the tall figure beside his bed. He fell asleep right there, with Rick's hand still resting on his head in soft counterpoint to his earlier roughness. Internally, Rick was swearing up and down at himself, and he drew out his flask as Morty's eyes closed, taking a generous swig before turning and walking out, shutting the door silently behind him.


	6. Saturation Point

Morty woke the next morning late in the afternoon. He had slept deeply and completely, never waking up anxiously from sounds as he often did. He felt refreshed, but the world had a distant, not-quite-real feel to it, like he was watching someone else living his life from far away. He lay in bed for a long while, savouring the floating empty feeling, such an improvement from the usual soul-crushing anxiety. As he moved to get up, he felt a soreness right in his bottom and he made a small pained noise. That made him notice how scratchy and raw his voice sounded, and he coughed a little in an attempt to clear it.

His hand went to gingerly touch around his butt, exploring the soreness of it, pressing delicately with the tips of his fingers. Images of the night before flashed at him unbidden, mostly involving the look on Rick's face, but he dispelled them by focusing on the surreal feeing, hand clutching his forehead as he wobbled a little. Morty felt unusually weak, almost dizzy, and resolved to go downstairs to find something to eat. _What if Rick is downstairs?_ his mind asked with sudden fear. He gave his head a rough shake, trying to dislodge the thought, admonishing himself for being such a pussy about the whole thing. Rick lived here, Morty was bound to run into him sometime.

He grabbed some cereal from the kitchen and wandered into the living room with it, feeling his heart pulsing in his throat, to where Rick and Summer sat on the couch watching an episode of Ball Fondlers. Morty watched from behind the couch for awhile, smiling a little. Rick was sipping a beer, not looking at him at all, even when he came around to stand to the side where he could glance over. Morty kept his gaze on the tv as much as possible, not wanting to be caught staring at Rick. He chuckled awkwardly in response to something on the show, his voice still scratchy, and tried to make a joke about it, shooting Rick an anxious smile. Rick's eyes flicked lazily over to Morty for a second, but he didn't speak, and after a moment's stare, turned his attention back to the tv, looking bored as he took a long sip of beer.

"What's wrong with your voice?" Summer asked loudly from her place on the couch, not looking up from her phone. Morty felt embarassing shame flood over him quite suddenly, and fidgeted for a moment before slinking off, depositing the half eaten cereal in the sink and hurrying back to his room. Rick and Summer didn't even look at him as he left, and Morty wiped angrily at the sting of tears in his eyes. Why did Rick always have to be such an asshole? Even as he thought it, more embarassment rushed in. He sounded like a little girl. He rushed upstairs and closed his bedroom door with a click before turning and flopping down on the bed. His head was spinning as the memory of the previous night came to him in the silence of his room, and he felt his cock stiffen beneath him. _You're fucking disgusting,_ his mind informed him quietly.

Morty couldn't really believe what had happened. He had woken up with Rick's cold hands on his cock, the older man's long lanky body pressed tightly against him, holding him firmly in place. The memory of it gave Morty a thrill, but also made him nauseous. How long had Rick thought of Morty that way? Did _all_ Ricks do this to their Mortys? Part of him wanted to be outraged by the sickness of it, but another part silently pointed out his rapidly hardening boner, reacting to the memory, and he felt the shame again. He couldn't tell anyone- he _really_ didn't want Rick to get into trouble- and he was too embarrassed by his own reaction anyway. Something deep inside him felt that if he told someone, they'd know that he hadn't really hated it. Why hadn't he yelled or fought, unless he had, on some level, liked it? He gave a few half hearted thrusts, humping the bed, feeling disgusting and frustrated and desperate all at once. Morty stood and stripped quietly, laying back down on the bed, sliding his palm down the length of his shaft, grasping his balls, and hissed in frustration. What kind of person was Rick for doing what he'd done to Morty, and what kind of person was Morty for liking it?

He must have fallen asleep because when he opened his eyes again, the room was dark. He'd woken up with a jolt of panic, but looking around the silent, pitch black room, he couldn't figure out what had woken him. As he settled into the silence, he felt a silent scream building in his stomach, trying to crawl it's way out his throat. He was always alone. The house was like a dead thing, somehow he lived with four other people, but he truly believed living alone would have been better. Would have felt better. Rick was just going to do his usual thing and pretend like nothing had ever happened. Morty dug his fists into his head, twisting, welcoming the unpleasant pain as a way to detract from the all-encompassing desperation and loneliness that had filled his entire being for as long as he could remember. That desperation floated like bile in the back of his throat until he rose, a heavy blanket of surreality settling over everything like snow. The world became a dream, and he watched himself walk downstairs, turning down the hall towards Rick's garage. Light filtered out dimly through the bottom of the door.

Morty watched himself open the garage door and step inside. Rick was at his usual spot, the workbench, back arched over like some big cat. He was soldering some delicate piece of electronics, held underneath a magnifying apparatus. He didn't look up from his work, little wisps of smoke coiling around the lens and trailing away through Rick's wispy hair. Beneath the burning soldering smell, the room hung heavy with the scent of whisky and stale sweat. Morty flashed on the memory of burying himself into Rick's pillow, trying to wrap the old man's scent around himself like a security blanket.

"Hey, Rick." He heard himself say, still observing the whole scene from far above. Rick remained silent, but Morty noticed a slight tremor running through his grandpa's arms, arms that were always perfectly steady whenever he was working on something. The flat, hollow sound of his own voice surprised Morty as he listened to himself say, "So we're just pretending nothing happened?" The words floated like a giant, dead thing in the still air, and Rick went rigid, ceasing his work. Very slowly, very carefully, he placed the iron back into it's dock, still facing away from Morty.

It felt like an eternity had passed between them before Rick's voice came, low and rough, "Y-Yeah. That's what we're doing." Morty felt his hands clench into fists. He walked through life like some pathetic ghost, too unremarkable in every way to be much noticed by anyone. Going on adventures with Rick had been the first thing in his whole life that made him feel as if he actually mattered, as if he had anything to contribute to the world. Not only that, it made him feel special. Even with all the other Ricks and Mortys, no one else on his Earth got to be his Rick's sidekick. Then, last night, Rick had reached inside Morty, so unexpectedly, and touched on something Morty hadn't even known existed, something he still didn't come close to understanding. Whatever it was had brought him to life, had brushed away the fear and depression like they were nothing, in ways the medicine never had. In ways he had never thought possible. He couldn't go back to how things were. He _especially_ couldn't handle Rick ignoring him, becoming invisible to the one person in Morty's life who might hold the key to his sanity, and enjoyment of life.

"I-I could... T-Tell Mom... About wh-what happened." he stuttered out, settling back into his body with the familiar throbbing anxiety all around. His throat felt tight with the implication, a bluff, as he had no desire to truly get Rick in trouble over this, but he needed some sort of leverage to even get Rick to look at him. Tears welled threateningly in the corners of his eyes as he watched Rick shake, spidery hands compulsively grasping and releasing the edge of the table. With sudden ferocity, Rick rounded on the boy, bloodshot eyes glaring down at him with barely concealed rage.

"Yeah?" he growled coldly, "Is that what you could do?" His jaw was working back and forth, clenching violently as he stared down at Morty, "And, how do you think that's going to go for you Morty? D-d-d'you really think Beth is just gunna kick me out, after everything she's already put up with? Let me tell you something _Morty_ \- your mom's almost at the end of her rope. Y-You wanna go tell her, _be my guest._ But don't- don't think you can come crying to Grandpa when mommy chugs a box of wine and slits her wrists in the bathtub." Rick's eyes flashed malevolently down at Morty, chest heaving with the force of his anger, as tears overflowed and slid down the boy's pale cheeks.

Rick rolled his eyes when Morty said nothing, body tense and unmoving as he tried to control the tears. A little hiccup escaped out of his clenched lips, and he scowled at the audible display of weakness. Rick shifted his weight, face settling back into its usual mask of boredom, and he glanced at Morty out of the corner of his eye. "Y'know what Morty, why don't you tell me why you really came down here tonight? 'Cause I _really_ fucking doubt it was just to inform me you'd be telling Beth what happened." In a few short strides, Rick had closed the distance between them, reaching a hand out to shove Morty roughly on the shoulder. "Huh?" he goaded, Morty still rigid, fists clenched trembling at his sides, gaze fixed pointedly on the floor. " _HUH?_ " Rick growled, and suddenly Morty was up against the wall, Rick's right arm pressed horizontally against his slender throat, his other hand pinning Morty's right wrist roughly, high against the wall. Morty let out a strangled gasp, Rick's pale forearm grinding painfully into the soft flesh of his throat. He panicked and struggled, turning his face to the side and shutting his eyes tightly so he wouldn't have to look at Rick. Morty felt his face flush, red and hot, but not entirely because of the lack of oxygen.

Rick leaned in close, loosening the pressure on his throat just a little. Morty could feel the crackling energy burning the cheek that faced towards Rick, as if he were a barely contained inferno. The stale whisky smell wafted around him and infiltrated his nose even though he was quite certain he'd stopped breathing. Rick let out a low chuckle as he surveyed the boy's terror and weakness, and without warning he opened his mouth wide and licked a long wet line up Morty's face, from neck, to cheek, to ear. He breathed another amused sound into Morty's ear as the boy began to tremble in earnest, hot breath tickling the sensitive skin, and bit down savagely on his earlobe, producing a small pained gasp from the boy's throat.

Rick moved back abruptly, removing the arm pinning Morty's throat and using his grasp on Morty's slender wrist to effortlessly overbalance the boy, tossing him to the hard concrete floor. Morty landed roughly, feeling light headed as he tried to sit back up. Rick loomed over him, hands unbuckling his belt, glaring malevolently down at him as if from a great height. Morty felt a hot tickle and reached a hand up to his ear, fingers coming away bloody. The ear throbbed painfully, it would surely be a noticeable mark with Morty's short brown hair. The dull slither of leather on cloth made Morty look up sharply as Rick slid his belt out from his pant loops. "Y-You want to threaten me, Morty?" he asked quietly, eyebrow raised questioningly as he held the belt in both hands. There was only the barest of moments for Morty's brain to try and think of a response that would save him, when Rick looped the belt back through it's clasp and slipped it over Morty's head, cinching it tight around the pale, soft flesh. He gave a vicious pull, producing a pressure unlike Morty had ever experienced before. The cold metal clasp dug painfully into his throat as his air supply was suddenly and totally cut off, terror spiking, blackness eating at the corners of his vision with a terrifying speed. He tried to choke out a cry, to beg Rick to stop, anything, but nothing came out, nothing could make it past that terrible choking pressure on his throat. Rick stared down at him with naked rage and hunger, muttering out angry little taunts Morty scarcely could hear. His lungs burned, and just as it became unbearable, he floated away into unconciousness.

When he woke, it was with great difficulty and confusion. He came back into his body slowly, from far away, and noticed things one at a time. His cheek was cold. He was upside down, compared to before when he'd been looking up at Rick. His face was down, pressed into the icy concrete, and his pants were down around his knees. His ass was up in the air, and the world was vibrating strangely, rhythmically, over and over. Feeling rushed back into his body like someone turning up the volume on a tv, and he felt a piercing pain as Rick rutted uncaringly into his already sore ass. He was making low noises in time with each thrust, fingers digging into the soft flesh of Morty's cheeks, thick cock pounding into Morty's tender hole mercilessly. "Riiiiiick...!" It was half scream and half moan, his ass felt like it was on fire, but Morty knew Rick wouldn't care, that nothing could make it stop. Hot tears flowed and dripped messily down his nose to darken the concrete beneath.

"Y-You think I give a _shit_ if you tell someone, Morty?" Rick asked breathlessly between thrusts, "I. Dont. Give. A. Fuck!" He punctuated each word with an especially hard thrust, and Morty yelped at the height of each, beginning to cry in earnest. He sobbed, loud shaking wails that echoed around the bare garage, while Rick continued to slam into him. "Y-You think anyone's gunna come?" He asked, grabbing onto the length of belt, still wrapped tightly around Morty's neck, lifting the boy up in a painful contortion. "Go on, call for help." When Morty just sobbed more, insensible, Rick let out a snarl and smashed the boy's head down into the concrete, leaving behind a little spatter of blood as Morty's head swam with light and color and the world threatened to go black again. "Scream!" Rick hissed into his ear.

" _HEEEELLLLLP!_ " Morty choked out a rough cry, the word trailing off into more hiccuping sobs, then nothing, as silence settled back into the world, broken only by the wet slapping of Rick's cock into his ass, apparently unmoved by his request. Rick let him stew in that silence for a few minutes as he fucked the boy, fingernails digging roughly where he held Morty's hips, until he drew a hand back to slap the boy's rump, causing him to yelp in surprise. He thrust his full length into the boy, pausing there, filling him completely. He pulled tightly on the belt again, until Morty lifted and strained to get away from the awful pressure, lifting up until he was bowed backwards against Rick's arching body.

" _No-one_ is fucking coming Morty. No-one is going to stop this from happening." He pushed the boy forward with a rough hand, maintaining the pull of the belt, and the pressure clamped down with an air of terrible finality. Morty kicked and struggled vainly, an animal in a trap, no more logical thought coming from his brain beyond getting away from that pain. He bucked, but his inherently feeble protests became swiftly weaker. Just before he slipped again into oblivion, Rick let go of the belt entirely. Morty fell forward with a lurching disorientation, hands coming up instinctively to prevent his face from meeting the ground a second time. Blood ran with tears and dripped down into the little pool beneath his face. Rick was grasping frantically onto Morty's hips now, pace suddenly doubling, nearly lifting Morty's bottom half off the ground as he pistoned into the boy, pace speeding and speeding until it tripped over itself, losing rhythm, and then Rick was moaning, head thrown back as he pumped his load into Morty's ass. The hot liquid stung and soothed simultaneously, the dryness suddenly alleviated, but nothing could be done for the damage already caused. Cum bubbled up around Rick's still buried cock, flowing around him and down Morty's balls, trailing a line of thick liquid down his half-hard cock. More dripped sloppily onto the floor as Rick removed himself with a groan, pooling on the ground in a pinkish-white puddle.

Morty collapsed trembling on the ground, still in shock, unable to lift himself as Rick zipped up his pants. Rick's movements were slow and non-threatening as he moved towards Morty, slipping the belt over his head and tossing it away to one side. He wasn't even crying anymore as Rick lifted him up into a sitting position, silently drawing him in for a hug. Morty felt the embrace rattle his barely maintained composure, like a spider sensing vibration along a strand of silk. He bit his lip, pain helping to focus him, while Rick petted his hair and rubbed his back in a way he supposed was meant to be comforting. The tears wavered just below the surface at these tender touches, threatening to break over, when Rick asked quietly, "What did you learn?" and Morty felt himself break again, face crumpling into a blubbering mess, tears flowing freely as he shook.

"N-N-Not to th-th-threaten you R-Rick." He choked out through raking sobs, voice drawn and thin as he wept. "I-I'm s-s-s-soree-ee-eee...!" he wailed, and Rick hugged him tighter, encircling Morty with his own body, sitting with knees on either side of the boy as Morty snuggled deeply into Rick's chest. Rick stroked the boy's hair as he wept, crooning soft little "I know, I knows", and "Shhh, it's okays". Rick held him until he had quieted completely, standing up slowly and taking Morty's hand to lift him up along with him. Morty teetered a bit, pants around his ankles. Rick grasped the boy on the side of the head, other hand wiping roughly at the forehead scrape that was bleeding prolifically for how small it was. "Good boy." he whispered, looking into Morty's face, bloody, tear-streaked. His throat was a mass of bruises, already darkly purple, and an annoying sliver of worry disturbed Rick's utter satisfaction as he wondered how Beth and Jerry would react to the wounds.

"Stay." He commanded, walking over to the metal shelf and producing a small syringe from a paper filing box. He strode back over to where Morty stood, shivering and leaking all down his legs, jabbing the silvery needle into Morty's bare ass. The boy hardly jumped at all from it, obviously still in shock, as Rick quickly depressed the plunger and removed the needle. "For healing." He explained roughly, bending down to pull up Morty's pants for him. The boy took over with trembling hands, not daring to look at Rick, who was already moving back to his workbench. He settled down in his swivel seat, picking up the soldering iron in deft and unwavering fingers. "Y-You can go now. Take a shower, clean that blood off you." he informed Morty unemotionally, who shuffled like a zombie to the garage door, shutting it quietly behind him.


	7. Axiomatic Response

Morty drifted as if on a cloud for the next few days. He hardly even remembered shuffling upstairs, showering, and falling into his bed. He did remember standing in front of the bathroom mirror, turning his face this way and that to observe the blooming purple discolouration spreading slowly across his throat and face. The rough cut on his forehead had stopped bleeding, looking small and neat, innocent of the mess that has ruined his shirt and stained the garage floor. His neck was by far the most startling, bruises running to blackish purple in a thick line around his throat, bloody red dots outlining the metal buckle of Rick's belt where it had cut into him. He had shivered at the thought of it and hopped quickly into the steaming water.

When he awoke the next day, however, mind racing with excuses and how he might avoid his parents and Summer, a quick glance in the mirror had revealed an unblemished expanse of creamy white skin, his neck completely devoid of any marking. The cut on his forehead was also gone, and with a slow surprise he realized that movement had caused him no pain, where as every step last night had been tentative and exhausting. His hand felt uncertainly at his bottom, but no reaction came. Morty thought with some annoyance that he shouldn't be so surprised, remembering that Rick had injected him last night at the end of it all, _For healing,_ he'd said. Even with his arrogance and threats last night, Morty absoultly preferred his Mom and Dad to know nothing of what went on between him and his grandpa. They barely approved of the two's adventures as it was, and they didn't even know the half of those. But, he thought anxiously, Rick's rebuttal to his threat last night smacked of something like truth, and Morty had no plans whatsoever to reveal these events to his mother. If his mother couldn't be trusted to handle it, Jerry was completely out of the question.

Morty got dressed, and just as he was opening the door to his room, he heard the stomping of feet and the swishing of fabric that meant Rick was coming quickly up the stairs. Morty stood straighter, almost at attention, pausing in the doorway as Rick came down the hall, wondering if he would be needed for something. "Morty," Rick burped and cleared his throat before continuing, "You're finally up." He grabbed the boy roughly by the elbow, "C'mon, w-we're late." His other hand fished inside his coat for the portal gun, eyes fixed on Morty as he fired it, an ambient green light filling the dim hallway. Rick seemed to be inspecting Morty, roaming over his face and body- he even turned Morty around with his grip on the boy's elbow. "Worked good." he grunted, half to himself. Rick seemed lost in thought for a moment before he came back to himself, remembering whatever errand he was about to take Morty on. "Let's go." he said, and pulled Morty through the portal. Morty was limp and pliant for the entire inspection, still feeling cloudy and distant, although there was still a familiar stab of embarassment as Rick had looked him over, reminding him of what had happened.

The pair spilled in through a portal to the garage some time later, Rick pulling a stumbling Morty behind him just as they'd left. Now, however, the boy's left sleeve was on fire, and Rick noticed it with an impatient tsk, beating at the flame with the cuff of his own fire-resistant lab coat. Morty had that deer-in-the-headlights look on his face, Rick noticed, as the flames finally went out, but when their eyes met Morty's mouth twitched up at the corners into an awkward smile. He knew that if the monster's flame had hit Rick instead, the materials they'd gone to collect would've been destroyed. Rick scowled at the boy before he could even think about it, breaking eye contact as Morty's face fell and walking over to his desk to set down the flask of bright green liquid they'd gone to such lengths to obtain.

Morty was standing awkwardly behind Rick, one arm grasping the other as he slouched uncomfortably towards the exit. The silence hung thickly, and Morty turned to sneak away without speaking when Rick said, "Don't." in his rough voice. Morty froze, turning back to look hesitantly. Rick had his back towards him, staring blankly at the glowing flask. "D-Don't go anywhere." Rick seemed to recover his usual demanding demeanour, "I need you to pass me things while I'm working." He pulled the chair over and began taking things out of drawers and cupboards and putting them in a pile. Morty stood in place for a minute, unsure, but eventually padded over to stand at his grandpa's side, watching him work without comprehending, but dutifully passing him various tools from around the garage when he knew what they were, Rick barking out a barely comprehensible explanation when he didn't.

Rick steadily drained his flask when he thought Morty wasn't looking, and then later even when he was, in addition to having Morty regularly fetch cans of beer from the fridge. It didn't seem to affect his work at all, only a slight languid quality to his movements gave away his increasing intoxication. It was nearly dawn when Rick's inebriation hit critical mass and he clumsily dropped a screwdriver to the floor, it clattered and rolled beneath the workbench, coming to a stop in the far dusty reaches. "Get that for me, Morty," Rick's words had a heaviness to them, bordering on a slur, "Then we're done for tonight." He leaned back in the chair, head tilting, before the spins corrected him and he sat back upright.

Morty had crawled under the table, his flat little boy bottom waving in the air as he searched among the other fallen items for the screwdriver. Rick watched him, remembering last night, his eyes flicking unconsciously to the little dark spot on the floor where Morty had bled. He ground his teeth back and forth, trying to maintain some level of composure, at the same time as his hand moved, seemingly of its own accord, to press roughly into his rapidly hardening cock. Morty must've noticed some change in Rick's breathing, because he turned to peer back at Rick over his shoulder, still on hands and knees beneath the table. His eyes widened and mouth opened to a little "o" when he saw Rick groping himself so openly, and his face flushed dark red while he quickly scrambled backwards and out of the tiny space. The frantic movement only reminded Rick of Morty's weak struggles, and his cock throbbed excitedly.

Morty was fidgeting now, looking longingly at the garage door, dreaming of escape. Rick's eyes were heavy lidded, alcohol working strongly on him despite his Herculean tolerance. He was staring directly at Morty, a stark contrast to his usual avoidance of even looking at the boy. Morty watched him stroke himself through his pants lazily, without a hint of modesty. With his free hand, Rick motioned for the boy to come closer, a friendly, childish gesture, but the look on Rick's face wasn't entirely friendly. Morty gulped visibly, staring hard at the floor after one accidental glance into Rick's face. It was true, he _was_ terrified, but he could also feel the blood rushing to his groin, as much as to his cheeks. He twisted the edge of his shirt nervously, trying to cover himself, when all he was really doing was drawing Rick's attention to it. The older man was smirking even as Morty sidled closer, heart thudding.

Rick's hand darted out as Morty got closer, closing around the boy's thin wrist like a chain, reeling him the rest of the way. Morty resisted only slightly. When they were close, Rick drinking in the sight of Morty's blush, his stubborn refusal to look at Rick's face, the older man reached under his work table to flip a newly-installed switch, and Morty heard a _shunk_ from the garage door as some sort of locking mechanism was activated. Rick grinned and grabbed Morty's hair, sliding his hand along the boy's jaw and gripping the side of his skull. Morty gasped a little at the pain, as Rick pulled him in close, biting periodically down Morty's neck, tasting him. Morty gasped at each bite, crying out in earnest as Rick bared his shoulder and bit down hard.

Rick buried his teeth deep for a long moment, feeling the hunger flow out through his bite in some perverse reversal of consumption. Then, he drew back, surveying the red impression of his teeth in a neat little mark on Morty's shoulder. Satisfaction washed over him in small waves, promising more, but he closed his eyes and smiled, savouring the little peace. When he opened them again, Morty had pulled away, inching instinctively away from Rick's grasp. The old man moved forwards lightning quick and grabbed Morty, one arm around his middle and the other around his neck once more, but loosely, not choking. Morty reacted instinctively, hands flying up to get in between Rick's arm and his own throat. His skinny legs kicked out ineffectually as Rick lifted Morty into his lap, seeming weightless, enveloping him like spider's prey.

Rick removed the arm around Morty's neck, and even though he had not squeezed, the gesture made Morty relax instantly, some tension draining out of him. Then, he felt Rick's hand on him, fishing down his already opened jeans, gasping as Rick's icy fingers slid around his painfully hard cock, drawing him out and releasing him to the air. It relieved some pressure, and Morty sighed as Rick's hand moved slowly up and down the length of him, squeezing gently at the base, thumb gently smearing precum around the sensitive head. Morty shivered with the sensation of it, leaning back comfortably against Rick, his grandpa cradling his entire form effortlessly.

The fabric of Morty's jeans was cutting painfully into his legs where it bunched up, so he raised himself, leaning back into Rick, sliding his pants down to catch around his ankles. Rick growled at the sight of it, overcome, and bit Morty again high on the neck, hard enough for the boy to cry out. He could feel Rick's thick cock pressing into him through his jeans, and wiggled back against it suggestively. Looking back, he could see through the corner of one eye that Rick's eyes were closed, a look of fierce concentration on his face as Morty wiggled purposefully atop him. His grip on Morty's cock increased suddenly, a nearly painful squeeze that made Morty freeze in place, feeling vulnerable.

Rick released him unexpectedly and dug around in an inner pocket, smiling to himself as he drew forth a small black toy, curved at tapered at the end so it wouldn't get lost in any orifices. Rick lifted it up so Morty could see it, turning it this way and that in his slender fingers. Morty recognized it immediately as something meant to go inside him, and his cock pulsed, mouth parting slightly as his breathing quickened. Now that the boy was relaxed and still, Rick released his grip around Morty's middle and grasped his cock again, slowly stroking it with nearly feverish hands. Quickly and discreetly, he pressed the toy against Morty's entrance, already more pliable after being broken in and healed.

Morty tensed a little at the soft pressure on his entrance, eyebrows knitting together as Rick increased the pace of his stroke. Without warning, Rick bit into Morty's neck again as he slipped the toy inside, the thickness of it sending a jolt of pain through Morty that was at once overpowered by the pain of Rick's bite. He let out a cry that was more a moan and Rick grinned, teeth still clamped down, at the sweet sound of it. No one in the house would hear a thing as long as his new invention was activated. He let his grandson adjust to the feel of the toy, other hand still working at Morty's cock.

"Yeah, you like that?" Rick spoke in Morty's ear, startling him. Like this, with Rick behind him, Morty could almost forget that it was his grandpa doing these things to him. His hands flew up to cover his blushing face, even though Rick couldn't see it. "Y-yeah..." Rick grunted as he thrust up against Morty a little, pressing the toy even deeper into the boy. Morty shivered a little as he felt it touch that spot inside him, the toy was much smaller than Rick's cock, not painful at all, and he could feel his orgasm building, tightening inside of him. "T-Tell me how much you like it." Rick growled from behind him, breaking his thoughts again. "Tell me." he insisted.

"U-U-Um..." Morty stammered, mind going completely blank as his heart leapt into his throat. Without waiting for a reply, Rick pressed something on the base of the toy, and it came to life, vibrating loudly as waves of pleasure flowed across Morty, electric and intense. It shook against that place inside him, and he felt his skin growing hot, especially his face, as he began making lewd little noises, moaning over and over in a rhythm. He felt his orgasm like a bowstring so tight it was ready to snap. Morty watched down the length of his own body as Rick's hand pumped him, skillfully, knowing exactly what to do. His revulsion, his shame, in watching his grandpa's hand on him mixed in, delaying the finale but prolonging the build up.

Then, just as suddenly, Rick switched the toy off. It hung heavy inside him, his body completely adjusted to the object, feeling curiously numb after the rough vibration. Rick released his cock too, it stood erect in the cold air, begging to be touched. Morty almost mewled, arms reaching out to grab himself, to catch the massive release that had been so near, but Rick's arm slid over him like iron, pinning his arms to either side as he bucked in frustration.

"Tell me." came Rick's low voice. "Tell me how much you like it."

Morty was silent for just a moment before he began to whisper fervently, like a prayer. " _Please Rick, please. Please. I like it, please..._ " Over and over again, until Rick switched the toy back on, hand barely sliding over the boy's cock before he was bucking, cumming, the hot jet of it flying thickly onto the table in front of them, and Rick just holding Morty tight against him, controlling the boy's spasms until they began to fade, and then die away completely. Morty lay limply against Rick then, utterly spent, panting heavily.

They breathed together, in sync, for a long while, until Morty began to stir in Rick's arms. He turned, and Rick let him, to face Rick. He couldn't make eye contact, too nervous, but he darted little exploratory glances into Rick's eyes, then away again, until he noticed a little dot of cum on Rick's cheek. Morty blushed at his own idea, but pressed onward, leaning his face forward as Rick looked a little startled, pink tongue darting out to lick away the bit of cum he had put there. Rick understood after a moment, smiling a little even as he worked to control the emotion, stuffing it down. He pressed his forehead against his grandson's, allowing himself one last surge of emotion, before he gently removed the toy and stood.

Rick didn't move after that, standing in place after tucking the toy away, as Morty pulled up his pants and found a rag to clean up with. When the cleaning was done, Morty turned back to Rick with a smile. Rick was still standing there, one hand pressing into his temple. " _Fuck..._ " he whispered, strongly and with feeling, and began searching around in drawers, the search growing more urgent as Rick trembled and whispered "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." under his breath. He eventually found a flask of some sort, it looked just like Rick's usual one but was coloured a dark purple all over. Rick unscrewed it and took a swig, an odd bitter lemony odour filling the room as soon as the cap came off. When the flask came back down, Rick teetered so much Morty thought he might fall over, but he didn't. Hands shaking, he pulled a bag out of the same drawer, poured some iridescent blue powder out onto a mirror he'd found, and began arranging it into lines with a bit of metal. He was still swearing to himself as he finished, setting the metal to one side and pressing both hands into his head with visible force.

"R-Rick?" Morty asked timidly from behind, and Rick jumped, eyes wild, looking back at Morty where he stood with the rag. "A-A-Are you o-"

"Fuck off Morty, you little shit." Rick slurred heavily, waving an arm at the boy as he turned back to the table. He flipped the switch underneath the table, unlocking the door to the house, still mumbling out half cooked insults and obscenities. Morty took two steps backwards, then fled, the harsh sound of Rick snorting lines chasing him from the room.


End file.
